


a lesson in self-care

by rhysgore



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Asphyxiation, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 11:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12580764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: in which raiden has an unpleasant accident.





	a lesson in self-care

**Author's Note:**

> is this what kojima would have wanted? this is what kojima would have wanted

He was slammed down onto his back, the wind forcibly knocked out of him, leaving Raiden wheezing, thrashing on the ground. The silenced tranquilizer pistol fell from his grip, clattering against the metal grate as it slid away from him, his last lifeline falling just out of arm’s reach. His back hurt, his head hurt from where it had been cracked against the floor, and the persistent pressure of a strong, clawed hand on his neck was making it impossible to breathe.

 

Looming over him, one knee pinning Raiden’s abdomen down, Vamp smiled.

 

“Fast,” he said, sharp nails digging into Raiden’s throat, ignoring the hands scraping up his forearm, “but not fast enough.”

 

He loosened his grip just enough to allow Raiden to take in shallow breaths- he wasn’t quite choking to  _ death  _ anymore, but he was still deeply uncomfortable, blackness threatening to seep into his vision again with every exhale.

 

Still, very nearly being asphyxiated wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing about Raiden’s current situation. That honor had to go to the unfortunate placement of Vamp’s knee. It had been a long day, most of which Raiden had spent active, racing around and trying to disarm bombs or avoid patrolling mercenaries. He’d been too busy, and although he’d mostly been able to ignore the complaints of his overly-full bladder, having Vamp exert pressure in that  _ exact spot  _ was making him acutely aware of how much he needed to relieve himself.

 

“Get… off…” Raiden grunted out between breaths, and Vamp cocked his head, grinning wider.

 

“You’re such an amusing plaything,” he murmured. “It would almost be a shame to kill you now.” 

 

He leaned forwards a bit closer, close enough that his hair tickled the skin of Raiden’s face. Coincidentally, that made him put more weight onto his knee, and Raiden’s eyes fluttered shut as he felt his body shudder with the need to piss. Squeezing his hands into fists, he dug his fingers into his palms as he struggled to keep himself under control.

 

“Is there something the matter?” Vamp asked, stroking down the hard line of Raiden’s jaw with a thumb. “I was expecting a little more  _ fight  _ out of you.” He shifted slightly, and Raiden let out a pained moan, gritting his teeth as Vamp’s leg practically rolled against him. His face flushed, and he squirmed in place, trying to get into a position where Vamp’s knee wasn’t digging into him so harshly.

 

“If you don’t… get off… you’ll regret it.” It was more of a plea than a threat, and Vamp raised an eyebrow at him, confused. He’d been expecting anger, and what he was getting was pain mixed with desperation.

 

“And  _ why, _ exactly, is that?”

 

Raiden looked to the side, embarrassed as Vamp raked eyes critically up and down his body, from where his hand was still wrapped around Raiden’s neck, down his chest, all the way to his belly, where Vamp’s knee was unhelpfully lodged. Experimentally, Vamp shifted his leg, and a wide grin broke out over his face when Raiden hissed in response, continuing to squirm as if that would get him away from the overbearing pressure.

 

“Ah.” The single syllable reverberated with an awful understanding. Raiden glared at the nearest wall, sincerely wishing for a few seconds that Vamp had just finished him off when he’d had a chance. “Haven’t had the time to tend to  _ personal matters?” _

 

“Fuck you,” Raiden spat, shaking his head back and forth. It was bad enough that he needed to go- now Vamp knew, too. “Just-  _ get off, _ or-”

 

“It isn’t good for you, holding it in like that. Aren’t there people who are supposed to be looking after your health for you? Or are you just ignoring them?” Not waiting for an answer to his teasing, Vamp pushed his leg down further, smile widening at the response it elicited.

 

“Don’t,” Raiden wheezed. With every passing moment, the painful, bloated feeling was growing. He wasn’t going to be able to hold it in much longer at this rate, and from the smug look on Vamp’s face, the bastard knew it.

 

“It’s fortunate you have me to help you take care of yourself. Isn’t it.” Settling down onto his other knee, Vamp brought his free hand between Raiden’s legs, pressing at his crotch through the tight fiber of the skull suit. Raiden yelped, thrashing his entire lower body, but all that managed to do was make Vamp’s nails scrape at him more insistently. He still couldn’t move his head and shoulders, the hand still holding his throat making sure that part of him was well and truly immobilized.

 

“No-  _ no-” _

 

He could feel himself start to cry, tears sliding out of his eyes at the overwhelming pain and humiliation. The intermittent groping wasn’t helping either, Vamp’s fingers tickling over his inner thighs, and the urge to just let go, to wet himself right then and there was getting harder to resist with each passing second.

 

A particularly inelegant shove of Vamp’s knee was what broke him. It jabbed down, right into his swollen, over-full bladder, and with a choked sob, Raiden lost control. Warm, acrid-smelling urine soaked through his suit, forming a wide, wet puddle under him.

 

“Good boy,” Vamp cooed. “Doesn’t that feel better?”

 

He didn’t seem to mind the fact that his hand was getting filthy, still pressed between Raiden’s thighs, right in the way of the steady stream. On the contrary, he seemed inordinately pleased, smiling and chuckling softly as he watched, pressing his fingers in closer to encourage Raiden to keep going, to soil himself further. This was disgusting-  _ Raiden _ was disgusting- but he would be lying if he’d said it didn’t also feel good to get it all out of him. His bladder wasn’t cramping anymore, the muscles no longer aching from the strain of being forced closed, and the relief was just as overwhelming as the embarrassment. Raiden let out a low moan as he relaxed incrementally, body shuddering as all the tension in it drained out of him along with his piss.

 

There was a shuffle of motion, pressure being lifted off of his pelvis and throat as Vamp finally got off of him. He stood up, staring down at Raiden’s unmoving, urine-covered form with a fey smile on his face.

 

“I was right about you being amusing to play with,” he said, shaking off his still damp hand, and Raiden flinched when drops of his own piss landed on his face. “We’ll meet again.”

 

With that, he turned on his heel, and vanished into the shadows of the steel girders. Leaving Raiden lying on the floor, face burning, wondering what the fuck had just happened to him.

 

He sat up, wincing at the sloppy, wet noise his suit made as he did so, and pressed a hand to the bruises already forming around his neck. Aside from that, he hadn’t sustained any injuries- and given Vamp’s obvious preference for knives, Raiden knew he  _ should _ have felt lucky about that, at the very least.

 

What he felt instead was mortified. He’d pissed himself in front of an enemy, and he’d- oh god, he’d _enjoyed_ it. Despite the pain and discomfort, the relief when he’d finally let go had been borderline orgasmic. Raiden closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat, trying to tamp down on the humiliation that the mess and degradation had left him feeling. Trying to focus on what to do next, rather than the sodden feeling of his skull suit clinging to his thighs and hips.

 

_ We’ll meet again,  _ Vamp had promised him.

 

Raiden scowled.

 

Struggling to his feet, he stretched himself out. He wanted to wash himself off, to rid himself of the sticky feeling, or the sharp, deeply unpleasant scent that he was now carrying with him, but Vamp had also promised that if he entered the sediment pool, he’d drown. That would just have to wait. He’d have to deal with this for now. 

 

He picked his gun up off the floor, checking it to make sure it hadn’t been damaged or jammed when it had fallen. Once he was sure it was fine, he holstered it, and headed for the exit, leaving the sediment pool behind him. As long as he was still alive, he still had a mission to carry out.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> as usual, [twitter](http://twitter.com/maverickminuano)


End file.
